01x13 - Sympathy for the Devil

(alarm trilling softly)

(alarm trilling louder)

(alarm continues)

(elevator bell dings)

Good morning. Morning.

Where you headed?

Cleveland.

Nice.

Well, you've obviously never been to Cleveland.

(birds chirping)

(sighs): Forward.

Positive.

Embrace the day.

Forward.

Positive.

Embrace the day.

(yelling)

♪ Please allow me to introduce myself ♪
♪ I'm a man of wealth and taste ♪
♪ I've been around for a long, long year ♪
♪ Stole many a man's soul and faith ♪
♪ I was around when Jesus Christ ♪
♪ Had his moments of doubt and pain ♪
♪ Made damn sure that Pilate ♪
♪ Washed his hands ♪
♪ And sealed his fate ♪
♪ Pleased to meet you ♪
♪ Hope you guess my name ♪
♪ But what's puzzling you ♪
♪ Is the nature of my game ♪

(ignition clicking)

♪ Stuck around St. Petersburg ♪
♪ When I saw it was a time for a change... ♪
♪ I might be gone right now ♪
♪ Check me out tomorrow ♪
♪ Eyes don't see when they're open ♪
♪ Please remind me to speak ♪
♪ I have fallen from the steepest mountain ♪
♪ Broken heart, you think ♪
♪ It's just you ♪
♪ So please forgive me ♪
♪ I'm lost to be found ♪
♪ I'm lost to be found ♪

(indistinct police radio chatter)

Whew.

Damn.

When dispatch said "car bomb," I assumed they meant a potato had been jammed in someone's tailpipe.

Judging by the scorch marks under the car, it wasn't in the tailpipe.

It was on the chassis under the driver's seat.

What are you thinking?

That whoever drove it out here either went for a hell of a long run or not long enough.

Thank God.

Funkhauser: This doesn't make sense.

We searched the whole park.

No body or sign of struggle anywhere.

This could just be an extreme case of vandalism.

Whoever planted the bomb had a beef with the driver, but didn't want them dead.

Or maybe they just missed.

But if the driver was still alive, why weren't they the one who called us?

We're not gonna figure out where they are until we figure out who they are.

I found a New Mexico license plate and I got the VIN number off a car door.

Great, run it.

I already did.

The New Mexico MVD says the owner is no one.

So I ran the VIN number with Mercedes directly, and their records indicate that the car doesn't exist.

Which means the owner either stole it or bought it from someone who had.

What took you so long?

I was working out.

I didn't have my phone on me when the call came in.

Now that you're here, maybe our team can help escort...

Uh, excuse me, Font, but if you don't mind, I need to speak with Russ in private for a moment.

Whoa, whoa, whoa... he might not mind, but I...

Just take a second. Come on.

Mind.

Russ, I need to ask...

To mind your own business.

But since that's impossible, Milt... yes.

Me and Holly, we're dating. All right?

And we're gonna continue to date long distance... whatever the hell that means, when she goes off to Indiana and goes to law school.

What?

That's why you thought I brought you over here?

Away from the car bomb investigation?

No.

But you tend to pry, man.

That's my car.

And I was in it this morning when it blew up.

No way. N-Not even you are that lucky.

Why would I lie about something like that?

'Cause you're a sick b*st*rd and you lie all the time.

I am not lying right now. That is my car, and I was in it when it blew up this morning.

I need you to help me find the person who did it.

Just you.

Why just me?

Because I don't need anyone else.

You don't want anyone else.

Because as usual, Milt, you've got something...

Are you gonna help me or not?

So, guys, Russ seems to think that the best way that I can help is by taking the physical evidence down to the FBI lab. And I will personally make sure that the forensic examination is expedited.

Thank you, that's great.

We just need to inventory it all first.

Oh, no, that's okay. That's okay.

Our guys will handle that.

Actually, technically, Milt, that's our...

It's okay, Font.

Milt: No offense, but our tech guys handle this kind of stuff every day.

Russ: Look, let's just focus on whose car this is, all right? Get it back down to the shop, break it down and see if you can find a different VIN number on the engine block, any custom parts you can trace.

Sure. You got it.

Good luck.

There's no way in hell they're gonna be able to trace that car back to you, is there?

Nope.

Yeah.

And you don't plan on turning any of that in to the FBI either, do you?

Nope.

Which means that you either know who they are and you're trying to kill them before they kill you, or you're protecting them.

Who are you protecting, Milt?

You don't think that I would kill someone who was clearly trying to kill me?

(chuckles): Hey...

I don't know what the hell you're capable of.

You would never trust me to let you do that, that's for sure.

So once again, Milt, who are you protecting?

You don't need to know.

How am I supposed to help you find whoever it is we're looking for if I don't know whoever it is we're looking for?

The bomb was triggered by the car's ignition, not by remote control.

Which means that the bomber didn't want to be anywhere near the explosion, which means he didn't see me escape the car.

This guy is not leaving town until he's sure that I'm dead.

(sighs): Yeah, but... how the hell did you manage...

You don't need to know that either.

Well, then, you know, I'm not gonna help you unless you start talking...

Yeah, you are.

And why's that?

Same reasons you've gone along with it so far.

Because you're naturally curious and arrogant.

You think that if you stick around long enough, sooner or later you're gonna find out everything that you want to know.

We have the element of surprise.

And I need to make sure that doesn't change.

I need someone else to be the face of my investigation.

(whistles)

Russ: Hey.

I need to talk to you.

So talk.

No, I can't do it out here.

It's confidential.

Get in the van.

Yeah, like I'm gonna get into some rape van with you.

Are you insane? You really think I'm gonna rape you?

No, but I think you and my nephew have cooked up some lame scheme to get back at me for that piece of crap car prank I pulled on his graduation.

And apparently, the plan involves a rape van that there's no way in hell I'd ever get into, so nice try, Johnny.

Your nephew's not in here. Get in the van.

Right. Well, then how else would you know where I work out every morning?

I told him.

Oh, hey, Milt, what's up?

We need your help.

Sure, no problem.

That's what I'm here for.

Milt: Has anyone called about the car

that blew up this morning?

Are you kidding? My phone's been ringing off the hook.

And what have you told them?

Nothing. Because that's what I know.

Russ: You tell anyone that there was no body in the car?

Exactly what is your definition of "nothing"?

H-Has anyone called that you don't already know?

No.

Fantastic.

Okay, do me a favor and don't give out any information until you hear from me.

You got it.

Thank you.

Whoa, whoa, that's it?

You don't even want to know why?

It's obviously none of my business.

And I'm sure I'll find out soon enough.

I work with people who have s*x in rooms monitored by cameras.

Keeping secrets clearly isn't their strong suit.

The car was armored.

The doors and undercarriage were fortified with steel plates.

So whoever owned the car knew they were a target.

And could have survived being inside when it blew up.

I sent Funk and Jacocks to check the hospitals, I sent Niblet back to the park with a canine unit to make sure we didn't, you know, miss someone who'd stumbled injured into the woods and passed out.

That's a good idea.

Where's Russ?

He and Milt are expediting the forensics with the FBI.

Milt needed Russ for that?

Hadn't thought about it.

Look, I love Russ, but sometimes it's nice to be able to work on my own.

Without him second-guessing your every thought?

I didn't say that.

Neither did I.

Russ: Who is she?

You either pissed off a terrorist or you pissed off a woman.

And given the fact you haven't investigated a terrorism case since you got to Battle Creek, but you have had 12 crazy-hot assistants, I can only assume that...

Our suspect is neither a terrorist nor a woman.

Just tell me who it is.

Why? He is obviously not gonna be using his real name while he's trying to stalk me, so you wouldn't be able to find him, so there's no need to know.

Milt, you and I have been staking out your apartment for the past three hours, and you haven't seen him.

Which means he's not stalking you anymore.

Which means maybe it's time we started stalking him, huh?

Caucasian.

Six feet tall, 43 years old, brown eyes.

With a... scar underneath his left eye.

I'm guessing that you're the one that gave it to him?

You know this town better than anyone.

Yeah.

Where would you stay if you were coming from very far away and needed to stay under the radar long enough so that you could figure out my daily routine so you could kill me?

Oh, man...

(sportscast playing over TV)

Ah, finally.

Every other motel across town, they got the Pistons game on.

Well, fortunately, when you check into your room, you get to pick your own channel.

Hey, Shaggy...

I look like I want a room?

You got a guy staying here, nasty scar under his left eye?

Uh, yeah... well, you know, without a warrant, we're not allowed to...

I'll take that as a yes.

What room?

Man, I... My boss will fire me.

No, I get it.

Your boss, he's got strong feelings about civil liberties.

Let me ask you something.

How do you feel about guys who rape kids?

(thunder rumbling)

Yo!

You were right.

I got the room number and...

Milt?

What the hell?

(groans)

Oh, my God.

What?

Where am I?

(yells) Aw, geez.

(quietly): We're better off if he thinks we're still unconscious.

(grunts)

You son of a bitch.

Huh? What did I do?

I'm in handcuffs in the back of a car.

This guy's a cop, isn't he?

You think only cops can buy handcuffs?

No, I'm guessing he's your old partner.

Is that who you're protecting, Milt?

It's not a cop.

Look enough, Milt.

Tell me the truth for once!

Look, we're obviously in the back of some dude's trunk, and he's probably gonna drive us out into some spot in the woods, and he's gonna shoot us in the head, and he's gonna bury us in a shallow grave.

I think I deserve to know why!

Okay, okay, okay.

(panting)

It's because I killed his son.

(seagulls squawking)

Ask him.

Nah.

We cannot show up to a senior party without weed.

So you ask him.

I did my part.

I got my sister to get us invited.

It's your turn.

(clears throat)

Hey, mister.

Uh, hey. Sorry to bug you. Um...

Uh, well, we heard that you... And I'm sorry if I'm wrong, but...

(chuckles)

We need some weed.

(chuckles)

Yeah.

I can absolutely hook you up.

(door opens)

Hey, Casey.

You having a rough day?

(scoffs)

Did you call my parents?

Would you like me to? I could do that right now.

Don't you kind of have to?

Milt: Absolutely. You're 16 years old.

If we're gonna charge you with a crime, we have to notify your parents.

You might not charge me?

It's completely up to you. We can help you.

If you help us.

Milt: You see, you're lucky because... you're nothing.

You're a B-student scholarship kid with a stay-at-home mom and a dad who manages a strip mall.

You're a fly on the windshield of a Mack truck to this universe.

Russ: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

I call B.S.

There's no way you said to anyone that they were "a fly on the windshield of a Mack truck to this universe."

Come on.

It was a long time ago.

I may have... misremembered some of the details.

Yeah, like, um... oh, right... Who the hell you are.

Who I am and who I was are two completely different things.

Yeah. Once again, I call B.S.

People don't change.

You want to know why we're in this trunk or not?

Go on.

But because you were stupid enough to try to buy drugs from the wrong guy, you have a chance to not be nothing.

You have a chance to make a difference in this world.

You have a chance to help us put a very bad guy in jail.

I-I don't know any bad guys.

You know Roger Acevedo.

Acevedo?

Nah, he's-he's, like, a straight-A student.

He's going to Stanford.

And I'm sure his father couldn't be prouder.

You and your friends ever talk about Roger's father?

But you've been to his house?

Yeah, a couple times.

Nice house. Nice pool. Nice tennis courts.

You ever wonder where all that money came from?

Doesn't he own a restaurant?

Which comes in handy to launder all the money he makes as the biggest coke dealer on the West Coast.

Yeah, he got that way by being vicious and trusting no one.

Well, almost no one. He trusts his son.

Your buddy.

I should probably talk to my parents.

Mm. Yeah, absolutely you should.

But for all we know, your parents are customers of Acevedo.

No. Um, are you kidding?

My parents are... They're the lamest...

Not cool enough to do coke, huh?

Yeah, we don't trust your parents.

And we don't trust their lawyer.

We trust you, because we can control you.

So you have two choices: you can either keep talking to us, or you can talk to Mommy and Daddy in jail.

This isn't just the reason why we're in this trunk, is it?

This-this is... the reason you're in Battle Creek.

I mean, this whole "nice guy, trust everybody" crap, it was just an act.

You're actually a good cop?

It's not an act.

(school bell rings)

(students chattering)

Hey, Acevedo.

Hey. What's up?

Hey.

Uh, not much.

Yo, we missed you at Molnar's party.

Casey: Yeah. I-I got tied up...

He's going to Stanford. This isn't gonna work.

Hundred bucks says it does.

The apple never falls far from the tree.

Anyway, my, uh, friend just got back from a surfing trip to Baja, um, with a-a duffel bag full of cocaine.

And he offered to sell me some of it.

Or, like-like, all of it.

Roger: You deal drugs?

Casey: What? No, no. No, no, no, no. Never.

Uh, but... well, he knows I go to a private school, you know, with a lot of rich kids, and he offered to cut me in for ten percent.

I-I mean, I could pay for my spring trip to Costa Rica.

Why you coming to me?

(chuckles)

Uh...

I heard some stories.

You know, about your father.

He's taking his time.

He's not gonna do it.

Yeses never come quick.

As soon as he stalls, you know it's a yes.

I'll talk to my dad.

All right.

Hey. We are what we are.

I don't think we're gonna be able to trace any of the armor.

Believe it or not, it's all off-the-shelf stuff.

But when you armor a car, it adds about 50 pounds to each door, which means the hinges need to be replaced, too.

So I went down to the impound lot, and the hinges are still intact, and they had these markings on them.

"TLC"?

Yeah, or, uh, "TCL" or "CLT."

I'm sure Milt can track it down for us.

I don't think so.

I just called the FBI; the evidence Milt took from the scene for analysis never made it to them.

Why wouldn't he...

I don't know, and he's not talking.

I tried calling them three times.

"Them"?

Yeah.

Russ isn't answering his phone either.

Russ: So why the hell are we in this trunk?

I'm trying to tell you.

You killed a major drug dealer's son, and now he wants you dead... that makes sense.

But what makes no sense to me is why are you trying to protect him.

If it was a short answer, I'd have given it to you.

Roderigo: Not gonna happen. You're going to Stanford.

You're getting an education.

Come on. I do this crap so you won't have to.

This crap?

Yeah, look at where we live, Dad.

Look at how we live.

You know how dangerous my job is?

And it gets more dangerous if you talk about it with your classmates.

Yeah, well, it shouldn't be.

Look, we studied prohibition in Comp Gov.

You're not doing anything immoral.

And you know all this how?

We had surveillance devices throughout his home.

Well, if you had bugs, that means you had a warrant.

If you had a warrant, that means you had another informant, so...

We didn't have a warrant.

Roger, you know I love you.

And I'm really proud of you.

You're smart, and you're gonna do great things.

Great legal things.

Okay?

It's 46 keys of cocaine.

I take it Stanford took a backseat to the 46 keys.

(chuckles)

But he was suspicious.

He wanted to meet the kid first.

Roderigo: Okay. Big day.

You nervous?

No, I just, um...

I didn't think you'd be checking Casey out yourself.

You'd be more comfortable without me?

No, I just...

I assumed you had people, you know, on your front lines.

People that do this kind of stuff for you.

Not when it has to do with my son.

No, 'cause you go down, I go down.

Nobody's going down.

You can trust Casey.

No, I can trust you.

That's where the list ends.

(phone beeps)

He's here.

Get him.

(sighs)


Roger: Dad, you remember Casey?

Of course. It's good to see you again, sir. I appreciate you taking the time. I know how how busy you are.

Roderigo: I'm happy to. How's your dad? Brock, right?

Oh, come on.

Enough chitchat. Let's get to business.

Casey: He's good. Thank you.

Good.

Can we get down to business?

Thank you, Roger.

Casey, let me ask you something.

Are you a fan of Monty Python?

Pardon me?

Roderigo: Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

Monty Python.

It's a really funny movie.

You used to love it when you were a kid.

(chuckles)

I-I'm sorry.

I'm-I'm afraid I don't... I don't...

Okay.

All right.

It's very simple.

Roger: Whoa! Dad, Dad, Dad.

Casey's cool. He's-he's... cool.

It's a gun.

Relax. Relax.

Casey, it's three questions.

What is your name?

What is your quest?

What is your favorite color?

You get any of these wrong, you die.

You remember the scene?

Yeah, I... yeah, I remember the scene.

Yeah, don't worry.

My questions are just as easy, assuming that you told my son the truth so far.

Casey: I have, sir. I have.

We got to move in now.

No.

He is threatening to kill that kid.

He's quoting a movie.

While holding a gun.

So what are we gonna get him on?

Not having a carry permit?

He does 30 days, he gets out, and then he kills the kid.

Relax.

I briefed the kid myself.

He'll do fine.

Okay.

Where did your supplier get the drugs?

Well, he was in Baja, surfing.

But his brother is a clerk in a law office down there in La Paz.

He handles real estate crap for this guy named Dario Calderon.

Calderon?

Yeah. Calderon.

Yeah?

And apparently, he got busted by the Federales last week.

With, like, a couple hundred kilos of cocaine.

385 kilos.

Right.

That's good. Good, good, good, good, good.

Casey: Well, apparently, not all of it was with him.

46 of it was still in his lawyer's office, and that guy wanted to unload it as soon as possible, so he gave it to my buddy who sailed back to Oceanside last Tuesday.

And it's been in his basement since then.

Roderigo: Good.

All right.

Very good.

(chuckles): Yeah.

Okay, now, what's your buddy's name, what's his brother's name, and what firm does he work at?

(chuckles)

What?

Well, you know I can't tell you that.

What?

You want to do a deal with me, and you don't trust me?

Of course I do.

What? Oh, that makes sense; you're worried that I'm gonna screw you out of the deal.

(whimpering) Right? Or maybe you're just worried that if you're lying to me, you wouldn't want to give me a name that I could track down.

(crying)

You just have to make up your mind who you're more afraid of.

He's gonna kill that kid.

No, he's bluffing.

There is a 16-year-old in there with a gun to his head because of us.

Gun is not to his head.

Listen to what he's saying, look at how he's moving.

The threats are vague.

He's not actually pointing the gun at anything.

It's an act.

He's fishing, for us.

He's waiting to see if we're gonna swoop in and save the kid's ass.

I can't take that chance.

No, no, no, no.

This is my case.

Roderigo: Well, you got five seconds.

One.

Come on, Casey.

Just give him the name.

Give him the name.

I can't. I can't.

Two.

I can't. I can't. I can't.

Three.

I can't.

Four.

I can't.

Okay.

You done good.

You've got honor, kid.

It's all right. It's okay.

You can keep your secret.

I like him. He's good.

Told you so.

You are a son of a bitch.

Why couldn't I have been working with that Milt?

Lannister Tool Company.

They're based in Flagstaff, Arizona, but they supply throughout the southwest.

I found the owner of a body shop in Los Angeles that remembered the car.

It's not every day that a guy wants his car pimped out and armored.

Did you get a name?

Roderigo Acevedo.

What's he doing in Michigan?

Feds say he's not.

He's in prison... drugs and racketeering.

His vehicle was seized when he was arrested.

By the feds?

Yeah.

Sting operation six years ago headed up... by FBI Special Agent Milton Chamberlain.

You think this was Milt's car?

You think someone's trying to kill Milt?

I'm not sure.

I haven't been able to reach him or Russ.

What does the FBI say?

Nothing.

Called his old partner in Detroit.

He pulled the Acevedo file, and he found exactly nothing.

It's sealed.

Something really must have hit the fan on the case.

Um, I-I want out.

Uh, please don't make me do this.

Don't worry.

The transmitter is nano-sized and completely sealed inside.

And he's not gonna check. He trusts you now.

Yeah, but as soon as I say something wrong, he's gonna kill me.

He was ready to kill me the other day while you guys sat in your van watching.

Milt: Hey, kid, you want to stay safe? Don't cross the street.

Don't drive a car.

Don't eat red meat.

And do not back out of this deal.

Acevedo couldn't be doing this if he's still in prison.

I guess he could hire a hit man, but why wait six years?

He might not be in prison.

You just said he was.

Feds wouldn't tell me anything, but Google did.

Acevedo's testified against three other drug lords since he's been arrested.

I'm sure that's not out of a sudden sense of justice.

So, if he's become a cooperating witness, then he might be in protective custody.

Which could mean he's not in custody at all.

He could be anywhere.

Where are you going?

Detroit. They're about to unseal those files.

What are you gonna tell Acevedo?

I'll tell them... that the deal fell apart.

Yeah? And how'd it fall apart?

How are you gonna explain that you were arrested for marijuana possession two days before you came to them with this deal, then charged the day after it supposedly fell apart?

The only way you don't look like an FBI informant is to keep being an FBI informant.

Russ: You know that's not true, right?

You know that you could have just not charged him...?

Yeah, I knew that.

The kid didn't.

And that was good enough for you?

We needed him.

The good news is you're right.

This guy is a sociopath.

Poisoning people who have crossed him, planting car bombs on rivals...

That's good news?

Yeah, because he's gonna stop doing that when he's in prison, because of you.

Hey, I know you're scared, but you are a hero, and you are gonna be safe.

We will have thought of every possible contingency.

Guziewicz: How much do you hate Milt?

A fair bit.

Enough to want him dead?

We haven't heard from Milt in six hours.

Approximately an hour before that, his car was blown up.

The person who used to own that car was Roderigo Acevedo.

Yes, that Roderigo Acevedo, and, yes, I know that you're gonna want to open your own investigation, but before you make that call, before you leave this office, I need to know one thing; I need to know where I can find Acevedo.

Now, if he's in witness protection, then he has a handler.

I want that name.

(computer beeps)

He's not in witness protection.

He's still in jail.

Who else was taken down in the raid where Milt nailed him?

Other drug lords?

Acevedo was the only one targeted.

Milt had an informant that got him close to Acevedo's 17-year-old kid.

His son?

Milt arrested Acevedo's son?

It could be the kid going after Milt. How much time did he do?

(computer beeps)

It wasn't the kid either.

(seagulls squawking)

Casey.

Look.

Good.

Milt: Move in. Move in.

(tires screeching)

Man: Police! MAN 2: Right there!

Hands up! Hands in the air!

(tires screeching)

All of you, on the ground!

Don't do anything.

What are you doing? What are you doing?!

What are you doing? Whoa.

You're not leaving this beach except in handcuffs.

Then I'll take him with me and a bunch of you!

Where you gonna go?

Where you gonna hide?

And for how long?

They got us.

(whimpering)

Come on. It's over.

I know it's over.

It's all over!

The house.

(crying): Our family.

I don't go to Stanford.

Everything is ruined!

Take it easy.

It is.

And it is all his fault!

(crying): No, no, no, no.

And he has to pay!

(gunshot)

(people screaming)

No!

Man: Secure the weapon.

Marina: Hold on.

Yawn.

That wasn't a screwup, Milt.

He was gonna kill a 16-year-old kid.

What the hell were you supposed to do, man?

I know. I had no choice, but...

16-year-olds can be idiots.

You know, if they can make it to 20 alive, they have a fighting chance, but I...

I tempted him.

I used him.

And I killed him.

And now his dad wants you dead, and for some reason, you're trying to pr...

No, no.

It's not his dad that wants me dead.

So I'm...

Am I... I'm free to go?

Marina: Completely.

(chuckles softly)

(clears throat)

My dad should be here any second.

I assume you guys don't want to meet him.

I think it'd be better if he never knew we existed.

Hey.

I know people will never know what you did today, but...

I do.

Thank you.

(engine revving)

Dad!

Casey!

(tires screeching)

I don't get it.

It obviously took Casey's father six years to get to the sealed case file.

No, I mean, I...

Yeah, I get that he wanted to kill you.

But what I don't understand is how a teenage informant who was killed in Los Angeles results in you getting blackballed in Detroit.

It didn't result in me getting blackballed anywhere.

In fact, it got me and my partner commendations and promotions.

The FBI didn't care about the collateral damage, but...

I did.

I insisted on doing everything by the book.

Some people thought I was just trying to show them up, make them look bad.

Some people just...

Well, they finally found a place where I couldn't make anyone else look bad.

Because I was alone.

(car thumping)

Oh!

(grunting)

He went off the road.

Look, we got one shot at this, okay?

I'm gonna try to kick him when he opens up the trunk.

All right? Yeah, shh.

No, no, no, no, no.

Just relax. Let me handle this.

Relax?

What do you mean, like you handled everything back at the motel? What are you, crazy?

I wasn't expecting him.

What do you mean, you weren't expecting him?

We were there specifically looking for him.

What are you talking about?

All right, all right, just...

(grunts)

Hey.

Take it easy. Take it easy.

(grunts)

No, no, no, no, don't do it!

He's not FBI, he's local police!

He's got nothing to do with this!

I know.

Go.

Walk.

Just go, Russ. Do what he says.

I'm not going anywhere.

You're my partner.

Just go! Do what he says!

It's not worth it, okay? Come on, man, he's not worth it.

You know that.

What I know is I spent two years and every cent I have on lawyers, trying to find out who was responsible for luring my son, for entrapping him, my son.

Nothing you do here is gonna bring your son back.

And you know that.

My friends gave up on me.

My wife left me.

But no matter how many shrinks I saw, I couldn't...

I sold my business, bought a new identity and got a job as a janitor.

I worked for two years scrubbing toilets in order to build up a résumé that qualified me to work in the Federal Building, and it took two more years to build up enough trust to get access to the room where the sealed case files were stored.

And every second of every day of those six years will have been worth it.

Look, Brock, I get that you're pissed off, man.

You think I'm pissed off?

(grunts)

No, stop it!

You think that's what a father feels when he sees his son get torn open with blood pouring out?!

When he holds him as he takes his last breath?!

(groaning)

You think...

You think I feel pissed off?

(panting)

Do you have children?

No.

Good. That's good.

Not that it would make a difference.

(siren whoops)

Freeze! Drop the gun!

Now!

(Brock groans)

Put your hands above your head and get on your knees.

Do it! Now!

I should have killed you back at the hotel.

Russ: Yeah, but you didn't because you wanted to get away with it, which means you're not completely insane.

Hey, Font, how the hell did you find us, man?

We were able to trace the car to a drug dealer in Los Angeles, which took us to the dead kids, which took us to this guy. We tracked everyone who rented a car with a Los Angeles driver's license.

Five of the cars were GPS equipped.

We each took one.

Bromberg loaned us his, uh, helicopters.

Local sheriff's department was more than happy to help.

Bromberg's got five helicopters?

The Detroit office has seven.

What the hell are you doing?

Drop your weapon.

What?

Milt, what's going on here?

Drop it now.

Throw it into the corn.

What are you gonna do, Milt? You gonna shoot him?

What, you don't think that I will?

You said before you had no idea what I was capable of.

Russ: Go ahead.

Don't worry.

He's not gonna kill this guy.

He's probably gonna let him go.

Which is fine by me, because right now, he's-he's only a threat to one person on this planet.

So go ahead, Milt, let him go.

Drop your weapon.

You, too.

Get back.

Oh, no, M-Milt, Milt, Milt, think about this.

Take it.

You have every right to want to kill me.

I deserve to die.

Your son was a good kid.

He was a really good kid.

And if I thought for one second it would bring him back, I would take that gun, I would put it to my head and I would pull the trigger.

Hell, if I thought it would give you just a moment of peace, that would be reason enough.

But it won't.

So the only thing that I can do is the thing that I've done for the last six years.

I want to balance the scales.

I want to do enough good in my life to try to outweigh the bad.

But I doubt I'll ever get close.

I'd like to keep trying.

I don't have the right to demand that time.

You've earned the right to stop me.

No!

Russ: Milt! Milt! Milt!

(groans)

Get an ambulance! Now!

Hey.

Hey. Hey.

Hey. Hey.

Hey.

You're gonna be okay.

I know.

♪ Just as every cop is a criminal ♪
♪ And all the sinners saints ♪

(laughs)

♪ As heads is tails ♪
♪ Just call me Lucifer ♪
♪ 'Cause I'm in need of some restraint ♪
♪ So if you meet me ♪
♪ Have some courtesy ♪
♪ Have some sympathy ♪
♪ And some taste... ♪